


Babysitting

by Cdelphiki



Series: The Story of Maxwell George [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Bruce Wayne adopts every child he finds, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd is a good brother, Law & Order SVU is worse, Past Sexual Abuse, Really it's not graphic, Vague description of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: Jason Todd is a not a babysitter, so when Bruce Wayne called and demanded he watch the man's demon spawn and newly acquired foster kid, Jason was pissed.  As it turned out, Max wasn't all that bad of a kid, and Jason ended up getting far closer to the little rascal than he'd expected.  Who knew a 7-year-old would trust a antihero so quickly?This is a one-shot in the AU ofThe Missing Piece, specifically during chapter 13. You don't have to have read it to follow this, but it makes a lot more sense if you do.





	Babysitting

**Author's Note:**

> This was a story I've put off publishing until Chapter 23 was posted, just due to the very spoiler nature of it. If you don't like spoilers and haven't read that far in _The Missing Piece_ , then you've been warned. 
> 
> It takes place in the time jump of Chapter 13, Babysitter, when Jason is watching Damian and Max.

Babysitting was not something Jason did. He was not a fucking babysitter. Bruce Wayne was a billionaire, he could afford a damn nanny, but no. The Batman couldn’t risk bringing in more help. He couldn’t have some poor girl, who just needed money to get through college or some nonsense, accidentally stumble into the bat cave. Or over hear the demon brat screaming about how his father, Batman, was better than whatever the demon screamed about. The replacement or something. No. Instead of hiring help like a normal fucking billionaire, Bruce called Jason. And basically told him to get his ass to the Manor to watch his newest little brat. Maxwell. Why couldn’t he have called Goldie home? That dick loved kids. Especially Bruce’s. 

So that is how Jason Todd found himself sitting in the Manor on a Saturday reading a book and eating all of Alfred’s cookies in the kitchen, brooding over the fact that he was there and not at home. Doing what? Probably this, just at home. Okay, so maybe babysitting wasn’t quite so bad. Bruce wasn’t there to annoy him, and he did get some of Alfred’s cookies. He should probably check on the brat to make sure he wasn’t dead or something. Should seven-year-olds be this quiet? Bruce probably wouldn’t be happy if the shrimp accidentally died under Jason’s watch. 

Wandering the halls in search of a tiny person, Jason finished off the last cookie from the jar. Someone was going to be upset about that, but Jason did not give a fuck. White macadamia nut cookies were his favorite, especially when made by Alfred. 

It took ten minutes to locate Max. He was hidden away in an upstairs den, doing a puzzle. What kid does 1000 piece puzzles, anyway? By themselves? So quietly? He was such a weird fucking kid. 

“Hey, Squirt,” Jason said as he plopped himself down on the couch behind Max. 

Jason watched as the scrawny little blond tensed up and froze in the middle of placing a piece on his nearly completed puzzle. Oh shit. It took Max a couple seconds to force himself to relax again, before he finally said “Hi, Jason,” very quietly. After a moment of tense silence, caused mostly by the absolute terror radiating off Maxwell, the boy stood up and excused himself from the room. 

Oh shit. 

Bruce had said nothing about this kid being afraid of adults. He said nothing about him being afraid to be in a room alone with Jason. Was he afraid of the others, too? He hadn’t noticed, because frankly, Jason never came over. He didn’t care enough to come by. The short stack had plenty of brothers in his life, he didn’t need Jason. But apparently, those other brothers hadn’t noticed _this,_ because they never mentioned it to Jason. Bruce was under the impression he got hit a couple times and was badly neglected. This? This was way more than that. 

Kids didn’t flee the room because they were afraid of being hit. Jason had been one of those kids. He didn’t run away from Bruce or Alfred or Dick any time one of them showed up. He had always kept quiet, made sure he did nothing to upset the adult in the room. And after getting to know the men of this family, he relaxed and started pushing their buttons. He had seen plenty of Max to know the kid liked pushing buttons. He liked pissing off people, back talking, being sarcastic, and basically being a fucking little brat. He wasn’t afraid of being hit. He was afraid of something worse. Something that would only happen when he was alone with an adult. Jason was willing to bet it specifically applied to adult men, but since this fucking ‘family’ was lacking on the estrogen, he couldn’t test that theory. 

An idea came to Jason. Quickly abandoning his book, he left the den and hurried over to the demon’s room and barged in without knocking. Heh. The kid was going to be so mad. Damian was sitting at his desk drawing. Of course. What else did the kid do? His dog, Titus, was laying on the brat’s bed snoozing. When Jason walked in, the dog looked up just long enough to recognize him before laying his head back down.

“What do you want, Todd?” he sneered. Fucking brat. 

Jason ignored his attitude and got straight to the point. “I need to borrow your dog. Titus, want to go for a walk?” The dog perked his head up and looked to Jason, as if deciding whether he wanted to go with the teen. He was a dog, of course he wanted to go on a walk.

“What?” Damian demanded, “Why do you need my dog?”

Jason whistled, “Here boy, let’s go outside.” With that, Titus hopped up and tramped to the door. “Relax, brat, I’ll bring him back.” 

With Titus at his side, Jason left the room as quickly as he had arrived, completely ignoring Damian’s shouted protests. The dog ignored him, too. Perfect. Now he just needed to go find the shorter brat. 

Maxwell was in the library reading _The Chronicles of Narnia_. The third book, not the first. The one with the cousin and the boat. It had been so long since Jason read that series, maybe he should reread it. 

As predicted, Max became visibly uncomfortable when Jason entered the room. “Hey, kid, I’m taking Titus for a walk outside. Why don’t you come with me?” Before the shrimp could respond, Jason turned and made his way to the back lawn. After a couple minutes of patient waiting, Maxwell wandered outside, now wearing shoes and a hoody. Oh yeah, right. It’s cold outside. It’s November. Good thing Jason didn’t just drag the kid outside. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both boys watching Titus jump around. The lawn needed to be raked soon, but as it was, it left a lot of cool smells for the dog to explore. Max seemed much more relaxed outside, with the dog and Jason. Bruce had mentioned thinking about getting Max his own dog. He probably should. One that would grow to be big, just to give Max a better sense of security. Like a German Shepherd. A big dog would protect Max, and even though he’d never need that protection in the Manor, because as much of an asshole Bruce and his sons were, they weren’t _monsters._ A dog would make the kid feel more comfortable, regardless. Be a rock in his life he could cling to, just like Titus was to Damian. Not that the brat would ever admit it. 

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets as he led the kid and the dog further away from the house. He wasn’t sure if where he was going was even still there, he hadn’t been since he was a child living here, himself, but he could improvise if it wasn’t. 

“How are you liking it here?” Jason finally asked. He kept his gaze on the dog, trying his best not to intimidate the tiny person walking next to him. 

“It’s good.” His answer was short and quiet, but not filled with fear. Bringing the dog was a brilliant fucking idea. 

Jason nodded. It probably was pretty good, actually. Even if no one seemed to actually pay attention to the child. Okay, that wasn’t fair. They adored Max, they just kept him in their blind spot and lived in denial. “How’s Bruce treating you?”

Another short and quiet answer. “Good.” 

Also true, Jason assumed. Hoped. No, he knew. Bruce wasn’t a monster. He was an emotionally constipated man, as Dickface always said, but he did actually care, deep down. He sucked at showing it, and was an asshole, but he wouldn’t hurt a little kid. And the man fucking adored Maxwell. Talked about him like he was the greatest kid on the face of the planet. Poor Demon. 

“I remember having a really hard time adjusting when I first moved in.”

Max looked up at Jason curiously. “Really?”

Jason smiled. Now he was getting somewhere with the kid. “Yeah. I was a street rat, you know. Homeless. I didn’t trust anyone and Bruce confused the fu...dge outta me.”

The squirt furrowed his brows at Jason and asked, “How?”

Jason sighed and resisted the urge to light the cigarette he really wished he had. Second hand smoke or something. Bad for the kid. Bruce would be mad. Talking about this was going to be fucking hard without the nicotine. “I didn’t know what he wanted. I couldn’t figure it out. No one just takes in some random poor kid and feeds and clothes him for no reason, right? Especially not billionaires.”

It was true. Jason was terrified of Bruce when he first got dropped off at the Manor by Batman. Heh. Poor stupid young Jason, not seeing that Batman and Bruce were the same person. He honestly thought he was being kept to be Bruce’s… toy. What else did rich people keep homeless kids for? Everyone had heard the rumors about why Bruce took in Dick. And I mean, come on Goldie, you had to go by _that_? Weren’t helping Bruce’s case much. And because Dick had moved out not long before Jason showed up, it only made sense. He needed a new one. It wasn’t true, of course. _Batman_ needed a new Robin, which honestly wasn’t any better. It got Jason killed, after all, but that was something Max didn’t have to worry about. Demon Spawn was Robin right now, and he’d kill Max before letting the kid replace him. 

“But Bruce is really nice,” the shrimp whispered. He said it like he was trying to convince himself, not just Jason, of the statement. Trying to reassure himself that Bruce really was nice, as he appeared, and he had no reason to be afraid. 

“Yeah, he is. I didn’t think nice people existed.”

“Bruce is nice,” he said again, this time with a touch more confidence. 

“He’s not perfect kid, but yeah, he does actually care.”

Max nodded and pulled his hood up over his head before shoving his hands back into his hoody pocket. 

Jason decided he should continue with this conversation. Bruce sure as fuck wasn’t going to have it, since the jerk didn’t even know it was needed. “It took me a long time to see that. I was afraid of him at first. Afraid the rug would be yanked out from under me and I’d realize the safety I felt was false. It never happened. He was for real and it was all no strings attached.”

“I- I was scared of him at first. When we first met. I was scared he’d want something for-for feeding me.”

The teenager nodded as they crested a hill. Off in the distance, on top of the tallest hill on the estate, Jason saw what he was looking for. He led Maxwell toward the pair of swings dangling off a tall oak tree. Supposedly, these swings dated back to Bruce’s childhood. He had replaced the ropes with chains while Dick was a child, so they’d be safer. The old brittle ropes apparently couldn’t handle the munchkin acrobat Bruce had taken in. Jason used to spend hours just sitting on the swings, reading a book, or just staring off toward the city. It was a good place to sit and think. Get fresh air. Get out of the Manor and away from Bruce for a few hours. The man never ventured out to the swings himself. Jason assumed they had too many good memories attached. Memories of his parents and of Dick, and Bruce probably didn’t want to sit at the swing with Jason, who was a poor replacement for Goldie. The swings probably just reminded Bruce of that.

Jason had to push the bad memories of past insecurities from his head to refocus on his task. Helping this little rugrat move past his own insecurities. Or at least get him to recognize them, so he could move past them eventually. 

“Are you still afraid of him?” Jason asked once they reached the swings. He turned around and sat on a swing, facing the Manor, and waited for Max to join him. 

“No,” the child responded, quietly but confidently. 

“You aren’t?” Jason questioned. He hadn’t really been around the squirt much, but he would be shocked if he had come to trust his new guardian so quickly. Perhaps he was wrong in his suspicions, after all.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know.” Max took a deep breath and began swinging himself lightly. His feet did not touch the ground like Jason’s, leaving him to swing slightly in the breeze. The rocking motion of his upper body got the momentum going a bit faster, but without pumping his legs he wasn’t doing anything significant. 

Jason waited patiently. He had sat with abuse victims hundres of times and knew well enough that if he stayed silent and still, Max would fill the silence and continue. 

“It’s just. I thought I could trust my dad, right? He ws my dad and dads are supposed to be nice and love you and protect you. And he said he did!”

Jason nodded. He knew all too well the pain of having a shitty biological father. His dad never told him he loved him, so at least he hadn’t had that to confuse him, but his dad was certainly the exact opposite of kind and caring. Jason and Max had a lot in common when it came to dads.

“He said he loved me and he protected me from Uncle Nate and he took me away to where I thought I was safe and I thought,” Max paused and took a deep breath. “I thought I could trust him.” 

The runt started pumping his legs to get the momentum of the swing going again. He wrapped his arms around so his elbows were gripping the chains and his fingers were interlaced. “Then he betrayed me,” he continued, “for money. And I realized, I trusted the wrong person. And if my own dad doesn’t care about me, why should a stranger?”

For a seven-year-old, the squirt had some pretty high-level thought processes. Not many elementary school kids did this kind of introspection. Jason knew all too well the kid’s reasoning. He, too, had been confused why a stranger could care about him when his own father did not. That’s Bruce for you, though. 

“Why Bruce Wayne? But then, anyone can be a dad, right? Even bad people. But superheroes? Only good people can be superheroes. So maybe…” Max trailed off and pumped his legs harder. 

It took Jason a moment to finish following Max’s train of thought to its unspoken conclusion. He knew he could trust superheroes, so he knew he could trust _Batman._ Therefore, he could trust _Bruce._ Jason grinned. The short stack knew _the_ secret and hadn’t told anyone. The momentary pride he felt was quickly squashed by everything else the kid had just revealed. 

“How did your dad protect you?” Jason prodded, “I thought he hit you and stuff.” 

Max turned to Jason and raised an eyebrow. “What? No. Only that one time. Dad came looking for me and killed my uncle to rescue me from him.” 

Jason put his feet on the ground to stop his own swinging. “He what?”

“I’m not supposed to know he did.” 

“Why did your dad have to kill your uncle?”

“He hurt me,” Max whispered. 

“How?” Jason asked, gently, quietly, hoping to pull the information from the child without causing too much distress. 

Max let his legs go still and his swing slowly came to a stop. His gaze was fixed off into the distance, staring into the city of Gotham, his mind likely just as far away, lost in his memories. Jason felt bad for making the kid think through his life, but it was important the runt face his past so he could understand his present and move to the future. 

“My uncle took care of me for as long as I can remember. He gave me food and stuff in exchange for doing things. Some things didn’t hurt, but usually they did. If I refused, he’d hit me a bunch then make me.”

“When I got a little older, he started making me doing things for other men, too. Refusing his friends was worse than saying no to him. They-“ Max’s breath hitched, and Jason wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold the child, silence him, tell him it was over now, but he knew even touching him at that moment would send him into a panic, “They were never gentle. Never nice. I- I hated it. I never wanted it.” Tears began flowing from the child’s eyes as he continued his account, “but Uncle Nate made me. Told me it was all I was good for. Wouldn’t let me eat if I didn’t at least pretend to like it. The men gave him money for it and he said that was how I paid him back for living with him. 

“My- my dad got out of jail and found me and found out what my uncle did and he got really mad. I didn’t know who he was, but he said he was my dad and that he was there to protect me. He told me to stay in the closet while he talked to my uncle, but I didn’t listen. He shot him with the gun from the bookshelf, then came and got me and said I’d go live with him. He promised I’d never have to do any of it ever again.” 

Max turned and looked at Jason, his tears causing his hazel eyes to sparkle. The redness on his face and tremble in his lip told Jason how miserable the rascal was. If only he could take the pain for himself. No child deserves what this one has been through. 

“Then he sold me. He sold me and I only didn’t have to do it again because Batman saved me.” Max’s tears turned into full on sobs as he collapsed into himself, his body barely being held up on the swing by his arms around the chains. 

Jason hopped off his swing and knelt before the boy. “Max,” he said gently, “can I hold you?” 

Max hesitated and somehow curled in on himself more. 

“Remember? Superheroes are good? I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to hug you.” 

When he finally nodded, Jason held his hands out and allowed the boy to come off the swing and into his arms. Jason held him tightly, keeping his arms up around the child’s shoulders, while the boy wept. 

After what felt like an eternity, Max quieted down. “Jason?” he asked, between sniffles. 

Jason readjusted his head in the boy’s hair. “Yes?”

“Does it make me a bad person to be glad my uncle is dead?”

This kid really was going to fit right in with the bat clan. Always so moral, so caring of the lives of criminals. This kid was concerned he was a bad person for being glad his rapist was dead. How fucked up was that? “No, of course not. I’m glad he’s dead too. If he weren’t, I’d go kill him myself.” 

Max stiffened, and Jason rubbed his shoulder to relax him again. “You would?”

“Of course, short stack. You’re my little brother, I’ll do anything to protect you.” 

Max pulled away so he could look at Jason. “I thought you said you weren’t Bruce’s son.” 

The little brat. Now Jason had to admit it. Fuck. “Well, he did technically adopt me. And if he adopted me and he’s going to adopt you, that would make us brothers.” 

Max gave a tiny smile and leaned back into Jason’s embrace. “Oh. Bruce is going to adopt me?”

“I mean, yeah, he doesn’t foster kids for kicks and giggles squirt. It’s all or nothing with him. If he agreed to foster you he’s already planning on adopting.” 

“I’d like that,” Max whispered. 

The pair sat there for a few silent minutes, Jason still gently rubbing Max’s shoulder while the boy rested in his embrace. 

“How does a criminal become friends with Batman?” Max suddenly said, with a soft chuckle in his voice. 

Jason froze. “What?”

Max sat up and grinned at Jason. “By being his son already.” 

“Kid.” 

“That was a question Bruce asked me when I told him about the Red Hood. I guess he didn’t need me telling him about you, did he?”

Jason laughed. “I was a criminal before B adopted me. We met when I tried to steal his tires, you know. For some reason he thought I was cute and took me home.” 

“Huh,” Max said, furrowing his brows, “he caught me stealing bread. It’s not quite the same, but it’s still stealing.” 

With a shrug, Jason stood and offered Max a hand to help him up off the ground, as well. “Hey, kid. Let’s not tell the others that I admitted to being Bruce’s son, kay? I’ve got a rep to protect here.” 

Max reached up his hand and took Jason’s. “Right, can’t have them know you actually like them.” 

With a squeeze of the runt’s hand, Jason led him back toward the house. Titus, who had been napping in the grass, hopped up and followed. 

“You aren’t mad I know?”

Jason laughed. “I’m relieved you know. I mean, it’s pretty hard to live in the Manor and not know, right? I think it’s fucked up Bruce doesn’t want to tell you. Can’t wait until he learns you already know.” 

“Don’t tell him!” Max said quickly. “I’m not supposed to know, I don’t want to make him mad.” 

“Shrimp, Bruce ain’t gonna be mad you figured it out. He’ll be impressed, but keep him in the dark as long as you’d like. That’s what he gets for lying to you. Your secret is safe with me.” 

The rest of the walk to the Manor was had in silence. As they neared, Max let go of Jason’s hand and ran ahead and inside, off to who knows where to do who knows what. He was such a strange little cookie. 

Just inside the glass doors, Jason caught sight of Demon staring at him. “Todd,” he said in his asshole little tone, “is George okay?”

Well, what do you know. The little munchkin did have a heart. Jason smiled a soft smile at the brat, something he probably had never done ever, considering the demon was evil., “He will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like this was important to the story, and if you've read the main story, you know this conversation is referenced many times by Jason. I couldn't include it in the main story because that's all Bruce's POV and I felt it would take away from the flow if I randomly shifted to Jason just to have this conversation, so now it's just a one-shot. 
> 
> I really love writing Jason, he's such a fun character. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
